Bad Girls
by Buffy Sparrow
Summary: CRYBABY. A drapette from across the country has moved into Crybaby's territory and once he gets to know her he realizes sharing his kingdom might not be so bad after all. ON HIATUS - POSSIBLY ABANDONED
1. Chapter 1

Bad Girls

By: xBuffyxSparrowx

Rating: R

Pairing: You/Crybaby

Disclaimer: I do not own the any of the people or places in the movie 'Crybaby'. All I own is Evelyn.

Summery: A drapette from across the country has moved into Crybaby's territory and once he gets to know you, he decides sharing his kingdom might not be such a bad thing after all.

* * *

Chapter 1

Moving to a new town can be hard for anybody, but especially hard when your roots are uplifted from a beautiful place in California only to be placed in some dinky little town called Baltimore. Back in L.A. you were the reason people moved to the other side of the street and the perfect example of a juvenile delinquent. You fought, you drank**,** and you were brought home by the cops more times than you can remember. Above all else, however, you raced. During your three years of high school you'd managed to become the best drag driver among your gang.

Mom and Dad never noticed that you didn't dress like all the other girls, of course, and even with all the trouble you've caused they still believe you to be a perfect little angel. Apparently their definition of an angel differs a little from the rest of societies. In a world where the entire female population of your high school wore pleated poodle skirts with unflattering blouses and cashmere sweaters, your pencil skirts, dungarees and halters are considered Drape-dress. Not that you mind much, since that's exactly what you are.

"Evelyn, sweet heart, it's time for school**,**" your mom calls up the stairs.

Being the spitting image of a perfect suburban mother, with her good church gloves always perched upon her pale hands and her poodle cut hair heaven forbid she allow her daughter to be late for school. You check your reflection one more time before heading out the door, insuring yourself that your black pencil skirt is tight in all the right places and that your baby blue blouse shows just the right amount of skin under your leather jacket.

Once outside the school building, your red Deuce parked right out front, you take a moment to examine the people walking around you. All you can do is shake your head.

"Squares**,**" you mutter to yourself, a shiver of disgust coursing through you**.** "I hate squares."

You don't understand how those people can stand being dressed up like life sized Barbie dolls, let alone wear the clothes of their own accord. It's insane, in your opinion, to be so clyde. Conformity is what it truly is. Just another way for Eisenhower and his buddy Nixon to perfect and unite the nation he dictates. For a moment you get lost in your political thoughts, hardly noticing the black bent eight pulling up to park behind your car and the group of five J.D.'s climbing out of it.

The smell of cigarette smoke pulls you out of your thoughts and you glance over at the gang with peaked interest. The ugliest of the group meets your gaze with a crooked smile that looks more like a grimace, although you suspect it to be a genuine smile considering the rest of her appearance, and then she begins to make her way in your direction. You inwardly roll your eyes at her approach while returning her smile with an expressionless face. She gives you a once over as she stands before you, one hand obviously clutching a large knife beneath her jacket, and in response to her confidence you snatch the cigarette from between her lips. You take a long drag, pulling the sweet smoke into your lungs, before exhaling slowly into her face.

"You keep staring at me like that and I'm going to start making you pay for my time**,**" you tell her with a smile.

"That there's Hatchet face. She don't mean no harm**,**" a male voice yells in reply.

"Nice name."

You walk into the brick building without bothering to see who had spoken to you, tossing the cigarette back in their direction, and the smile stays on your lips for some time after the group has disappeared from your sight.

By the time your last class rolls around your mind is so numb you're surprised to find yourself still awake. You've discovered over the past couple of hours that the people in this place are complete nosebleeds and they tried their hardest to avoid eye contact of any kind with you. This teacher is no different, her voice is high pitched and annoying as she reads off the attendance. You start to realize that she's repeating a name for the third time when someone loudly walks into the room.

"Mr. Walker. How nice of you to join us."

'Mr. Walker' doesn't respond as he slides into the desk next to yours and you can see from your position staring at the ceiling that he's a greaser. Your teacher is quiet for a moment before continuing.

"Well we have a new student today. Her name is Evelyn and…"

"Eve**,**" you correct.

"Eve**,**" she repeats, "Why don't you tell us a little bit about yourself?"

"I'd really rather not. I mean no offense, ma'am, but such niceties shouldn't be wasted on a student that everyone knows you're never going to speak to again after today." For the first time since entering the room you avert your gaze from the ceiling to look at the stuffy woman before you**.** "Hey, don't you have a class to teach?"

Your question causes her mouth to drop open in surprise and you give her a small smile before returning to your previous activity, staring at the ceiling. It takes her a minute to recover, but eventually you hear her begin today's lecture.

From beside you 'Mr. Walker' quietly chuckles, the sound stirring butterflies in your stomach and those feelings alone cause your expression to slip into one of confusion. It's odd for any man to stir your interest at all let alone give you the feelings of butterflies with just a laugh. Sure you'd had boyfriends back home, most of them being status symbols more than anything else. None of them, no matter how cool or cute, affected you as much as this man's laugh.

You can feel his eyes on you, heating your body, and you can't stop yourself from meeting his gaze. Immediately**,** you notice the depth of his chocolate brown eyes and the beauty of his face. His dark hair is slicked back with the exception of one rebellious strand that falls elegantly over his forehead. Typical J.D. attire adorns his body, the blue jeans, white shirt and leather jacket, and the bad boy attitude just radiates off of him. The feeling of butterflies intensifies as you stare into those eyes of his, causing you to suppress a shiver.

"Eve was it?" He asks, talking quietly.

You nod your head slowly, unable to find your voice.

"Where'd you move from, baby?"

The endearing title as well as his slight knowledge of your past life brings back your ability to speak, as well as your bad attitude.

"Are you writing a book?" You ask him**.** "I'm sorry, but I don't do interviews."

He smirks at your avoidance, amused by the attitude that you're willing to give to complete strangers in a new town. You can tell that he's about to reply to your sarcastic comment but you decide not to give him the chance by quickly leaving the room. This was a natural, everyday occurrence back in L.A. any time you would get bored in class though no one could ever say you didn't get fairly good marks. Unlike L.A., however, you no longer have a place to go once you've left in the middle of class. Today would be a good day to explore this new town, you decide as you make your way down to the car.

Your plan immediately has problems when you get in sight of your Deuce to discover the one called Hatchet face along with two other girls leaning against it. They make eye contact with you as you move closer to where they're standing and you refuse to return their smile.

"Something I can help you with ladies?" You ask as you pull a cigarette out of your bag.

"You're new in town, right?" The larger brunette asks, her hands placed firmly on her hips.

You look over the three, examining each one and memorizing the details concerning them. The brunette that spoke to you a moment ago is round in the face, her body just as round as though she was recently pregnant. She wears a black and white patterned, knee length dress under her leather jacket with white socks peeking out over her flat top shoes. The blonde to her right is small and beautiful, her face made up perfectly. Her hair is styled to lie over her left shoulder, brushing against her green halter dress covered breast. Gum is obviously being chewed behind her ruby painted lips as she smirks at you. Hatchet face is covered in head to toe black spandex, an equally black scarf covering her blonde hair and a leather jacket much like the brunette's wrapped around her upper body.

"I don't see why it's of any concern of yours, but yes I am. Do you small town drapes always ask so many questions? I just got a third degree from one of you in class and I'm tired of it."

"Was he tall, dark and handsome with a tear drop tattooed under his eye?" Asks the blonde, fully smiling now at something behind you.

"I wouldn't call him tall or dark, but he was good looking enough." You pause a moment before a thought dawns on you, "Hey, I never said it was a guy."

"Did you hear that**,** Crybaby? The new girl thinks you're a babe."

"Well I'll be damned. Isn't that something, girls?" The man called Crybaby replies.

You look over your shoulder in time to see Mr. Walker toss his arm around your waist before leading you closer to the three girls.

"Don't you have a class to be in, Mr. Walker?" You ask, feeling rather uncomfortable with the closeness.

"I could say the same for you. I see you met the Crybaby girls. That's Wanda and you've already met Hatchet face. That one there is my baby sister Pepper."

You gaze at each one of them as their names are revealed to you, smiling slightly and mouthing a quiet hello. For a moment you consider asking them to drive around with you, to help you find someplace cool to hang out at. Then the heat at your hip reminds you of the uncomfortable feeling you seem to develop whenever you're around Crybaby and you have the sudden urge to run as far away from the lot of them as humanly possible. With as much grace as possible you remove the hand from your side and begin to move around the women in order to get inside the car.

"As hep as it was to meet all of you, I have better places to be." Climbing into the drivers seat you give them all one more smile, "See you in class**,** Mr. Walker."

"See you tonight, Eve."

"In your wet dreams, maybe."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The drive around the town, despite its small size, continued until well after dark. You find yourself parked outside a rather noisy part of town with a large sign with the words 'Turkey Point' written in white across the deep green wood. The sounds of music ring through the air loud and clear even over the roar of your engine, a kind of music you haven't heard in quite some time. It draws you to itself, the beat strong and pulsing through you like the blood through your veins. How could one such as you resist?

You sneak your way onto the property, amazed at the sight of so many people dressed and dancing in ways you've never seen even back in L.A. Up on a large wooden stage you notice Wanda, Pepper and Hatchet face standing with various instruments along with another male drape. Pepper begins a small, slow counting beat on the drums before her while her friends move along with the beat she's set. It takes mere moments for her beat to suddenly increase dramatically and from behind the stage curtain pops the one person you swore you weren't going to see tonight.

The sound of his guitar and voice are enough to send shivers through your system and with slow silent steps you begin to move ever closer to the stage. Crybaby looks beautiful under the lights and for a moment you forget you're trying to stay out of view, standing up from your crouched position behind some bushes. His eyes connect with yours, locking in on you as a very sensual smile spreads across his lips. The world stops, your breath hitches in your throat and still you feel yourself even more drawn to him as you continue to take small steps toward the stage.

The words flowing from between his lips have no meaning now as you feel your heart beat in time with the music. You're shocked out of your daze when a hand claps itself down onto your shoulder and you're shocked to find a woman smiling at you like she's known you for years. She's an older woman that dresses as though she's still a teenager and looks every inch a drape right down to her over done make-up.

"Well hey there**, **hunny**,**" she yells at you from over the music**.** "You must be Eve. Crybaby told me you'd be coming to see the show tonight."

"A-and you are?" You reply worried about how Crybaby could've possibly known you were coming.

"Ramona Ricketts, sweet heart. I'm Crybaby's grandma and it's great to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too, Mrs. Ricketts. Um, if you don't mind me asking how exactly did Crybaby know that I was coming here tonight? I just moved here and didn't even know that this place even existed until a few moments ago."

"Well that's a strange question for you to be askin'. How about you ask him yourself?"

"Ask me what**,** Grandma?" Crybaby asks from behind you.

The sound of his voice causes you to jump, the confusion you'd been feeling making you unaware to the fact that his show had ended. He smiles at your slight jump and immediately wraps an arm around your waist like he had earlier that day outside the school. This time the feelings are not so uncomfortable, rather the total opposite. With the amount of strange people surrounding you it feels like almost a relief to have him there beside you and that alone is confuses you. None the less you move just a little bit more into his touch and return his smile.

"You sing wonderfully, Mr. Walker. Now I still pose a question to you. How did you know I was coming tonight?" You inquire, nudging him slightly with your shoulder.

"Lucky guess, baby**,**" he replies with a wink.

"And now that you have me here what do you plan on doing with me?"

Your seductive tone makes Ramona laugh loudly and smack her grandson on the back.

"You've found yourself a live one, Crybaby. I can only hope she's not impossible to handle."

"Me? Impossible?" You respond, faking an innocent tone**.** "Only if he gives me lip."

This invokes another loud laugh from Ramona and you feel proud to be able to get such a response out of a near total stranger. She leaves you then, moving over to talk with Pepper and Hatchet face, and you catch Crybaby staring down at you with a wicked smile on his face.

"Don't be too pleased with yourself, Crybaby. Just because I managed to find my way here doesn't mean I plan on staying."

"Come on, Evey, you know you want to hang. No one likes bad news and especially not with a classy chassis like you."

"Wow, someone thinks their smooth. Nice try, but no dice."

You move away from him quickly, trying to escape from sight by walking into the large crowd of dancers a few feet away. With only a few more steps to go before reaching your car you believe yourself to be home free when the area suddenly explodes in a display of lights and sirens. The urge to run is strong, but you quickly push it away and dash over to where you can see a portion of Crybaby's gang being shoved into the back of a squad car. Your name is called out by one of the uniformed officers and it takes you a minute to realize your father is the one speaking to you.

"Dad, what the hell are you doing? What did I tell you about arresting my friends?" You scream back at him, your hands placed firmly on your hips.

He looks confused for a moment, taking off his hat to scratch his head while being careful not to ruin his perfectly styled flat top10 haircut. Even back in California when he'd catch your gang doing something completely illegal, he still left the wool over his eyes and pretended everything was well and good. You pray that now is no different as you pretend to be angry at his 'intrusion' instead of scared his partner would mess up your rescue mission.

"Well gosh, I'm sorry**,** hunny. I didn't realize you'd made friends so fast. How nice of them to throw you a welcome to the neighborhood party**,**" he finally replies, looking ashamed of himself.

"Forget it, okay? Will you just uncuff them and leave? You're embarrassing me."

He quickly does as you say, releasing his prisoners of war one by one. The last to be released is none other than Crybaby himself, and you laugh out loud when you see the disarray he's in. His hair has become loose from its binding grease and his coat obviously ripped from fighting off either your dad or his violent looking partner. When those chocolate orbs rest on you, he smiles widely and you can't help yourself.

"Hey Daddy? Can you leave him cuffed for me and just give me the keys? I would really like to see him learn his lesson**,**" you request in your sweetest voice.

The color drains from Crybaby's face when your Dad hands you the small set of keys before crawling into his squad car and driving away. An evil grin spreads across your face as you watch the drape squirm, looking very uncomfortable in the metal hand cuffs and his eyes begging you to release him. After a few moments of silence he lets out a sigh of disgust.

"Are you gonna let me out of these or not?"

"Maybe… if you're good."

"And if I'm not?"

"Then we have a whole new set of problems."

Ramona walks up beside you, grinning at the predicament she's come to find her grandson in. With an arm thrown over your shoulder she basks in the beauty of the situation before speaking.

"It was sweet what you did for the gang tonight, but what did he do to stay cuffed?"

"Gave me lip."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_A/N: The songs aren't mine! Just thought I'd throw that in there... _

It has been a week since your last trip to Turkey Point and the same amount of time since you drove home leaving the infamous Crybaby Walker stranded in handcuffs. Sounds a lot dirtier than it really is, but you enjoyed it none the less. At least you were assured of his freedom the next day at school, where he proceeded to ignore you even when the 'Crybaby girls' threw several 'way to go's in your direction. Wanda explained a hundred times how long it took Uncle Belveder to get the 'jewelry' off and the several failed attempts.

Despite your happiness at making the pain in the your ass suffer, something about this place has been raining on your parade big time. A single square, one disgusting blonde that stares at you with green eyes that sparkle with disgust that has nothing to do with your drape status. Hatchetface said her name's Allison, a square turned drape and then back again. Crybaby took a liking to her, apparently, and she tossed it in his face once the thrill of being a drape's girl wore off.

"That's it?" You questioned after the story was finished. "She just… got bored, like he was trash she was tired of staring at?"

"Bitch doesn't deserve 'im anyways," Pepper replied. "My brothers too bad for anything less than a full woman."

"A drape, you mean," Wanda pointed out, giving you a meaningful glance you didn't understand at the time.

Now that you're sitting in the back seat of Milton's duce, having been shoved into the backseat against your will by Hatchet and Pepper, you think you get the plan that Wanda had hatched that day. The gang, Crybaby excluded, decided you had no choice but to spend the day back at Turkey Point and the night enjoying the second Jukebox Jamboree. What that is, exactly, you're not sure but they promised you enough hooch for you not to care.

After spending the afternoon swimming in the lake and helping Ramona sort through stolen hubcaps, it's time for the Jamboree to begin. Drapes from all around begin showing up by the car full, filling up every open space on the dance floor and laying blankets all over the lawn. You know Crybaby will be on stage at some point tonight, and just thinking about seeing him sing, wondering if maybe he's singing for you, makes your stomach flip-flop. You can only thank God that no one here knows of your own secret talent, one that your gang in California had no problem exploiting as they made you sing at every party.

With everyone dancing out on the floor, the four of you have little better to do than watch the party going on before you.

"You ever seen anything like this before, Eve?" Hatchet asks.

"We had our own version, but usually just to celebrate winning a race. No live band or anything, though. Just one person with a decent voice who was willing to sing along to records."

"He any kind of good?"

"_She_, and I thought she could be better."

"Don't be so modest, babe," Wanda laughs.

"Did I say it was me? Now go backstage. Ramona looks ready to get this thing kicked off."

Sure enough, just as soon as Ramona noticed you alone, she walked up on stage to give an overdramatic introduction and moments later those damn butterflies start up at the sight of him. The song is another one that you don't recognize, but you listen more carefully to the words this time around.

_Well, since my baby left me_

_I found a new place to dwell_

_It's down at the end of lonely street_

_At heartbreak hotel_

_You make me so lonely baby_

_I get so lonely _

_I get so lonely I could die_

_And although it's always crowded_

_You still can find some room_

_Where broken hearted lovers_

_Do cry away their gloom_

_You make me so lonely baby_

_I get so lonely_

_I get so lonely I could die_

_Well the bell hops tears keep flowin_

_And the desk clerks dressed in black_

_Well they been so long on lonely street_

_They ain't ever gonna look back_

_You make me so lonely baby_

_I get so lonely_

_I get so lonely I could die_

_Hey now if your baby leaves you_

_And you got a tale to tell_

_Just take a walk down lonely street_

_To heartbreak hotel_

The sound of his voice finishing the final verse, so sad and yet angry all at the same time, sends shivers down your spine. All you can do is stare, noticing the single tear slowly falling down his cheek before he has wiped it away while making it seem as though he's removing his guitar from around his shoulder. Despite being mesmerized by his beautifully sad face, you still can't help but see Wanda move to whisper something in Crybaby's ear. When a smile spreads across his face, something inside you screams trouble. When those expressive chocolate eyes lock onto yours, the screams turn to unladylike curses.

"Well, sounds like we've got a special performance tonight. I've just been informed that our newest drapette has been holding out on us," he says, grinning.

"Not on your life, Walker," you scream in return from your place in the back.

"Eve, get up here before I walk down there and drag you up here myself."

"Fuck you."

Before your eyes, his amused smile becomes a devious smirk and his guitar is quickly handed off to Hatchet. You have no time to run, no room to even move further away as the crowd begins circling around you... trapping you. The impact of his shoulder against your stomach forces the air out of your lungs in a quiet 'oomph' and you can't help but smack the sexy ass that is now so temptingly close. Once your feet hit the wooden surface of the stage you immediately shove him away from you, pointing an accusing finger.

_I've been looking at you looking at me_

Your voice is sultry and soft despite the angered emotions behind your words, and even Crybaby is surprised at the intensity of it.

_Bet you're thinking that what you get _

_Is what you see_

_But underneath this cool exterior _

_A raging river flows_

_So before you get any nearer_

_I better let you know_

Holding both arms out at your sides, you let him look you over while you continue.

_I'm an emotional girl_

_I can't help myself_

_Sometimes I laugh_

_Sometimes I cry_

_Sometimes I do both and don't know why_

_I got a passionate heart_

_And that's just the way things are_

You move in closer, barely allowing your lips contact with his own.

_You and me could give it a whirl_

_but I'm warning you, boy_

_I'm an emotional girl_

With a smirk on your face, you use your hand to push his face to one side before turning toward the crowd and enjoying the sound of cheering at your next words.

_I like music that's loud and lights down low_

_I like driving my car to fast_

_And dancing slow_

_Some folk may say I'm to extreme_

You choose that moment to pause in order to hold your arms out in front of you like their tied together, making everyone laugh.

_Cause I can't stop once I start_

_But I never could do anything_

_With half my heart_

_Yeah, I'm an emotional girl_

_I just can't help myself!_

_Sometimes I laugh _

_Sometimes I cry_

_Sometimes I do both and don't know why_

_I got a passionate heart_

_And that's just the way things are_

Just like before, you allow yourself to move a little bit closer to Crybaby while you smile at the unreadable look upon his face.

_You and me could give it a whirl_

_But I'm warning you, boy_

_I'm an emotional girl_

The final word of the song has only just become silent when his firm, warm lips suddenly slam against your own and the sound of your pounding heart somehow manages to drown out the cheers from those on the dance floor. With shocked, open eyes, you allow him to ravage your mouth in one of the more brutal kisses you've ever experienced. Your body finally begins to respond to his mouth moving over yours when he pulls away so quickly you almost fall forward. Just as quickly, you find your fist acting of its own accord and the slight sting of pain is the only evidence you can find that you actually just socked the man. The anger coursing through your veins, clearly expressed on your face, has your whole body shaking as you stare down at Crybaby, looking at you in confusion from the floor of the stage.

"You were warned," you tell him quietly.

Everyone watches as you jump into the awed collection of drapes, storming off into the darkness. Ramona quickly does her best to get the party mood going again but even as the Jamboree continues until almost dawn, not a single drape finds themselves able to take their mind off you... Not even the one person there, sporting a brand new shiner, who tried harder than the rest.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

If someone were to ask you (and many did) what exactly happened that night between you and Crybaby, all would get an uncommitted response about knee-jerk reactions and too much booze. They would hear the pride in your voice as you retold the events leading up to the punch, but none would know that under all the swagger lay guilt. Yes, you actually felt bad for punching a man who kissed you without any... okay, much... encouragement. But, damn, was it one hell of a kiss.

The memory of his lips on yours were enough to keep you up at night and have you practically drooling in class. Every time you caught him watching you, the urge to blush or play coy appeared and you were down-right confused. To make matters worse, and twice as complicated, you never found a moments peace from him. Wanda, apparently trying to play matchmaker, always made one excuse or another to leave the two of you alone together and Hatchet and Pepper seemed to be going along with her game.

On one particularly hot Saturday, you manage to get away from the group by hiding out on a floating dock in the middle of Turkey Point's lake. The sun is warm against your skin, drying the droplets of water left on your body from swimming out, and you are sincerely enjoying the peace and quiet. Some screams and cat calls from shore catch your attention and you watch with a small smile as two women roll around on the ground. Apparently some sort of fight has broken out and there's no way you're missing out on it.

You swim back as quickly as possible, moving to stand next to Ramona and staring in fascination as the two girls duke it out.

"So who are the contenders?" you ask.

"Allison and Lenora," Ramona answers.

"You're kidding me. What are they doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious? Fighting over Crybaby."

The answer was obvious, especially from all the stories surrounding those two.

"Good girls want him back but bad girls want him worse, huh?"

"So do you want to break it up, or should I?"

"I'll do it," you answer with a sigh.

You grab both women by their hair, dragging them apart and keeping them as separated as you can manage. They continue to struggle against your hold, surprising you with the un-square like language flying out of their painted mouths. You tighten your grip on them, yanking them to their feet and pulling their heads back until their necks are almost bent in half.

"Walk forward and play nice, or I tug 'till you both end up bald. Your choice," you snarl, your eyes saying just how much you prefer the second option.

Allison, trying to be brave, takes a swing in your direction and you're quick to retaliate by kicking her legs out from under her before yanking her back up.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Lenora screams, still struggling.

"The new queen," you lie. "Got a problem with that, tramp?"

Both sets of eyes go wide at the untruth that slid so easily off your tongue, but you don't give either of them the chance to reply as you begin dragging them forward. The three of you walk up the hill, the crowd following close behind, until you reach the Turkey Point sign. Once you reach the end of the road, you throw both of them down into the dirt and listen to the cheers behind you.

"Trash," you sneer before feeling an arm come to rest around your shoulders.

Crybaby smiles down upon the two girls, obviously enjoying their suffering, and then gives you a proud look before steering you away.

"New queen, huh?" he asks.

"Don't look so damn pleased, Walker."

As the everyone heads back down to the dance area, Lenora and Allison begin brushing the dirt off their skirts while staring after you with murder in their eyes.

_Why should a fellow want a girl like her?_

_A frail fluffy beauty._

_Why can't a girl ever once prefer a solid girl like me?_

Allison sings angrily, glancing over at Lenora as she too begins to croon.

_**She's a frothy little bubble with a flimsy kind of charm and with very little trouble**_

_**I could break her arm.**_

_Oh, oh why would a fellow want a girl like her?_

_So obviously unusual?_

_Why can't a fellow ever once prefer a usual girl like me?_

_**Her cheeks are a pretty shade of pink, but not any pinker than roses.**_

_Her skin may be delicate and soft, but not any softer than a doe's is._

_**Her neck is no whiter than a swan's.**_

_She's only as dainty as a daisy._

_**She's only as graceful as a bird.**_

_**So why is the fellow going crazy?**_

_**Oh, why would a fellow want a girl like her, a girl who's merely lovely?**_

_**Why can't a fellow ever once prefer a girl who's merely me?**_

_She's a frothy little bubble with a frilly sort of air_

_And with very little trouble I could pull out all her hair!_

_**Oh, why would a fellow ever want a girl like her, a girl who's merely lovely?**_

_**Why can't a fellow ever once prefer a girl who's merely me?**_

_What's the matter with the man?_

_**What's the matter with the man?**_

_**What's the matter with the man?**_

"We should do something about this," Lenora says.

"Break them apart?" Allison asks.

They are both silent a moment before meeting gazes.

"Perfect," they both whisper.

* * *

A/N: Just so you don't get to confused, this is who sings what - _Lenora **Allison Both**_

This story is kinda on Hiatus. I'll try to write as much as possible, as soon as possible, but unfortunatly the real world has me running around like a chicken with my head cut off. No matter how long it takes, I PROMISE I will keep this story going.


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